Drunk
by Mockingjaybird
Summary: Draco and Hermione have never seen eye to eye on anything, especially when Draco's nasty addiction arises. But when they're stuck in a rainstorm together, something happens that will change their perspectives of each other forever. Written for Beautiful Meanings Competition
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Written for Beautiful Meanings Competition, level Medium, with the color indigo with the negative meaning-addiction. **

…

She had been walking by down an empty pathway on her return from the Owlery, one stormy twilight, minding her own business when she smelt it. The air stank of toxic cigarette smoke, mingling with the damp, cold, over-hanging clouds in the sky.

_Who the hell could be smoking, and in this weather? _She thought, trying to block the offensive odor from her nostrils, as she continued walking, watching for anything strange.

She was just about to pass Greenhouse One when she noticed a leg leaning up against one of its fogged glass walls; a small bit of embers glowing from something hanging between the figure's fingers, his entire body just out of view.

She muttered 'lumos' beneath her breath, which came out in wisps of white, before veering off the cobblestone path with caution as she felt the first few drops of rain begin to fall in a heavy down pour.

The embers she used as a guide were extinguished, and she lost the figure for a second as the rain blinded her vision for a moment. She wiped the water from her eyes and when she looked up, her eyes widened.

A wand was pointed straight at her, held by the one and only Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?"

"G-Granger?"

Draco took the wand away from her face, and held it near his for the light; the rain flattening his blonde hair. "What the hell Granger? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question! Were you smoking?"

"What if I was? What are you gonna do 'bout it? Report me to Pot-head and the Weasel?"

Hermione could suddenly smell alcohol in the mix of his breath. "Are…are you drunk?"

"On my way to it. So if you would ever so kindly, leave me to it." Hermione stepped forward, the rain soaking her to the bone, and a strong gust of wind whipping her hair about her head.

"Absolutely not! First, you're not supposed to be out here, doing that; and second, we're in a storm if you haven't noticed!" Her voice rose over the sound of the now howling wind, and she was eager to get out of it.

"All the more reason!" Draco replied, yelling back. "So go run off-" A crack of thunder and a flash of lightning lit up the sky, drowning him out, and making them both jump. As the sky darkened again, Hermione knew the longer they stayed out, the higher the risk of getting lost on the way back to the castle-it happened all the time to students away from the main grounds in bad weather.

She grabbed his wrist suddenly. "Come on," she said, dragging him into the greenhouse besides them. It was dark, as they entered; warmer when they closed the door behind them. "What the hell Granger?" Draco asked, yanking his wrist away, a bottle in the other hand.

"There's no way we'll make it back to the castle in that; we'll get lost in a heartbeat."

"So then what do you propose we do?"

"I guess we wait until the storm lets up," she replied, plopping down in a corner of the dark room. "Sit down and don't touch anything."

"With pleasure."

He sat down in the opposite corner, pushing his soaked hair back with one hand, before taking a large swig of the bottle.

Hermione rolled her eyes, before looking around. She recognized it as a first-year greenhouse-nothing in here would harm them. _Good_, she thought. _One less thing to worry about._

Thirty-five minutes passed by, with the storm still raging. Hermione sat disgusted as Draco took his umpteenth gulp, before she exploded, miserable and soaked.

"Will you quit that? You're going to drown in it."

"I bet you'd love that."

"I'd rather your demise be of something other than alcohol."

Draco gulped. "Oh? Is the Gryffindor getting soft?"

Hermione glared at him. "No, I just don't want your body reeking of spirits if they take it out of here." Draco shrugged, setting the nearly empty bottle on the ground. He got up, staggering a bit, and sauntered over to her.

Hermione shifted away. "I'd appreciate it if you got away from me."

Draco stopped and crouched in front of her, somehow keeping his balance on the balls of his feet. "But why? Do I…do I make you…nervous?" he asked innocently, with a small hint of smirk, as if he were a small child, and not the arrogant rival she had known all of her childhood.

"You're drunk, that's why! And no, you make me anything but nervous."

Draco shifted forward, leaning towards her some more. "Then what do I make you?" He was dangerously close now; almost nose to nose. Hermione could feel her face getting warm at the close proximity, and reminded herself that he was drunk and most definitely not himself.

She turned her head away. "What do I make you?" he repeated, his words slurring slightly.

She turned her head back to face him with annoyance. "Noth-!" The words died on her lips as Draco's lips pressed lightly against hers. Hermione's eyes widened and she pushed him away, turning away from him, her face on fire.

"I-I…sorry-" Draco began, as a sobered response to her reaction before Hermione cut him off. "P-please, just…go sit in the corner."

For the next hour, Hermione stared at the shadows of the raindrops, her mind in a whirl and Draco continued to drown everything out with the last of his alcohol.

…

When the rain finally rain let up, an hour and a half later, the two were on their way out of the greenhouse; Hermione mostly leading a staggering Draco, now completely showing full effects of inebriation.

When they made it to the castle, the corridors were empty; Hermione figured it was at least midnight. She wanted to get to bed as soon as possible-it would be hard to explain to a professor the situation that had happened without any major consequences for them both.

She had gotten them towards the end of the Long Gallery, when she heard someone giggling. As they entered the Viaduct Entrance, she saw a couple snogging against one of the posts of the Spiral Staircase.

Hermione immediately identified the boy as Blaise, one of Draco's cohorts, and struggled over, soaked with a still drunken Draco hanging off her arm. Their movement interrupted the couple, who broke apart; Blaise sent his partner away.

"Here, take him." She detached Draco from the crook of her arm and guided him to Blaise. Blaise looked at her, his eyes wide, his dark cheeks slightly flushed from his previous activity.

"What?"

"He's drunk."

"I figured that. My, is the know-it-all secretly a party girl?"

"Oh please, he got himself drunk. He's got a problem, and if you cared, you'd help him," Hermione rebuffed.

"He's been stressed," Blaise replied, moving away for a second to set Draco down on the steps. She had only just noticed the indigo shirt Draco was wearing.

"About what?"

"Studies, parents, things you wouldn't understand."

Hermione rolled her eyes-everyone went through the same thing in their life, of course she'd understand some of it, but she didn't press further. "Well next time, he can relax with something other than liquor. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed; and I'd suggest you'd do the same, especially with him."

She turned back to the direction she had just come from, quickening her step with every memory flooding back from just hours before. He was different when he was drunk-softer, kinder, and more innocent. But it still didn't change who he was sober.

As she crawled into bed, shedding her damp clothes, she wondered what he would say about it in the morning. That was, _if_ he said anything. There was no predicting anything with him.

Sleep came easier than she thought and her dreams were filled with rain and smoke and kisses.

…

When Hermione woke up, the dormitory was empty and she had missed breakfast. There were no classes for the weekend, and Hermione knew that Harry and Ron would be looking for her if she didn't get up soon.

She got dressed, unsuccessfully tried her hair from its wild state, and hurried downstairs in an effort to find her friends. They'd be in the library, the lake maybe? She'd try these spots first.

She was five minutes away from the library when she saw Draco's gang loitering through the halls. She kept her head down, waiting for some sort of reaction when Draco's voice called out to her.

"Look at the Mudblood fur-ball! How much static do you think she's got built up in that hair?" Their laughter echoed in her ears as she passed by them; her blood starting to boil. This was what he had to say? Insults?

She gritted her teeth together and walked a few more steps before her own impulses controlled her; she spun around on her heel, grabbing Draco by the arm, not caring who saw or what would be said about it, and dragged him down an empty hallway.

Draco yanked his arm back, protesting. "What the hell, Granger?"

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Ha, so we're playing this game, huh? Pretend nothing happened and go back to calling me names? You've got a problem, Malfoy-an addiction-and you need help." She could smell the previous night's alcohol and a hint of cigarette smoke on his breath.

"I don't need anyone's help! Especially not a Mudblood's-!" He stopped mid-sentence, cut off by a loud, harsh slap across his face.

"Don't call me that! I'm sick of you calling me that! You know, you really are a stuck up arse and you can rot away with your bloody liquor and smoking for all I care!"

A sullen, barking voice interrupted them. "Miss Granger! Mr. Malfoy! What is going on?" Both students turned around, staring at Professor Snape who came striding towards them.

"Professor?"

"Don't try and act as if you haven't been using foul language with your disruptive yelling, Miss Granger. Now, I'll ask again-what is going on?"

Hermione and Draco glanced at each other and Draco gave her a threatening look. Hermione turned back towards Snape and exploded.

"Well Professor, last night I was returning from the Owlery and on my way back I found Malfoy smoking and drinking…and then, this morning he called me a Mudblood and I confronted him about his problem and I tried telling him that he needs help, and then he insulted me again and-"

"Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked coldly, cutting her off.

"I mean…some of it is..."

"Don't lie to me, Mr. Malfoy! The truth, _now_!"

Draco glared at Hermione before he swallowed hard and said, "Yeah, it's all true. But Professor…it's not an addiction-"

"I don't want your back talk, Mr. Malfoy. You'll get this disgusting problem under control or I'll be contacting your parents and you will not be returning after winter break, pupil or no."

Snape turned to Hermione with a glare, "I'd better not hear any more foul-mouthed behavior coming from you in my presence. Ten points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor." With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off down the dark corridor.

Draco turned on Hermione, his reddened cheek still glowing on his pale skin. "I don't need help from anyone! Especially not you!"

"Do you even remember what happened last night?"

"Bits and pieces; what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with your problem! Merlin, when will you get it through that stupid head of yours?"

"Read my lips: I. Don't. Need. Your-"

"You kissed me."

Draco's jaw slackened for a moment before his brows knitted together in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You kissed me; last night, we were trapped in one of the greenhouses because of the storm-you were drunk and after some talk, you kissed me."

"Are you sure you didn't drug me or something-"

Hermione rushed towards him and raised her hand again, but Draco caught it and held her wrist tight. "No? Alright."

Hermione tried to snatch her hand away, but he kept it tight and she blushed slightly. "Don't you see? You've got a problem. You shouldn't be doing that, especially with me."

Draco suddenly thought of challenging her, seeing the sight of her blushing. "Oh? Why not with you?" he smirked. "What makes you think I wouldn't again?"

Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head; glared up at him with hatred; snapped out of her blushing, and remembered that she was talking to Draco _Malfoy_. "Because I'm a _Mudblood_, remember? Besides, why would I like a stuck up, arrogant prick like you?"

She snatched her hand away furiously, and pushed him back from her. "I would _never_ like you, even if my life _depended_ on it!"

Her heels clicked on the cobblestone floor as she hurried away, confused if his act was just a game or something more.

….

**AN: I might continue this if people like it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Happy New Year everybody! I do not own Harry Potter. Sorry this is a shorter chapter. I just wanted to get this out for the new year.**

…

"What the hell was that about?" Blaise asked when Draco returned back to the gang. "And what's with your face?"

"What?" Draco felt his cheek, finding it now just warm. "Oh, she slapped me."

"She slapped you? What did you do?"

He waved his hand in the air idly. "Called her a Mudblood, you know the usual. Do you want to go grab a drink? She's made me need one." He started to turn before Blaise called him back.

"Mate, I don't think you should."

Draco turned on him, "And just why not?"

"You drank yourself to intoxication just last night-why not take a break for today?"

"Merlin, you're just like Granger!"

"I'm just trying to help-"

"I _hate_ that word! Everyone just wants to help around here and I don't need it!"

"Mate-"

"No! I don't need it!" He turned and stormed down the corridor, ready to drown out everything.

…

He returned to his dormitory slightly more than buzzed that night, and found a letter sitting on his bed. He walked over to it, and picked it up, identifying the neat, elaborate scrawl of his mother.

He tore it open unceremoniously, tearing the stationary itself a bit and read. He read it twice after, three times, his mind getting caught on a single sentence. _We know-about your "_habits_' and we're not happy; honey, your father will disown you if you keep this up._

He stared at the sentence for the umpteenth time before rage settled in. He crumbled and then tore the letter to pieces, fuming, venting his frustration out on his pillow and the trunk at the foot of his bed. He didn't care if his feet were stinging with pain. He didn't care if he was waking his dorm-mates. All he cared about was that fact that his drinking had to stop.

But he didn't want to. He was addicted, he had to admit. And it killed him inside.

…

The next morning, Hermione went through her usual morning routine, getting to Charms early, and waiting for her classmates. As the last of them came in, Hermione didn't see Draco in the crowd. _Maybe I missed him _she thought and scanned the room as Professor Flitwick began his lecture. She counted all thirty-five of her classmates with still no Draco.

Ron tapped her arm, bringing her out of her thoughts. "We're supposed to be starting now. Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine. I was just…just thinking about the essay due in Study of Ancient Runes."

"O-kay, then," Ron replied to her answer and then went back to work.

Hermione felt slightly guilty having to lie to Ron, as she turned her head back towards the entrance. But Draco didn't show up. All class she waited for his appearance, but he never showed.

_Odd. But what should you care? After all, he's your enemy and he's an addict of all things. Let it alone. He's not worth your time._

_But what if he's drunk and unconscious somewhere? What if he's got alcohol poisoning? What if he's staggered somewhere dangerous and isn't coherent enough to save himself?_

"Hermione!" Ron yelled at her, bringing her back out of her mental conversation.

"What?" she snapped and looked around her to see that half the class was already gone and more were filing out.

"Flitwick's dismissed us. Merlin, what's gotten into you?" Ron gave her a confused and worried look, before grabbing his bag and leaving her.

Hermione shook her head as she gathered her things. She had to snap out of it. She had to stop thinking of Draco and his habits. She had to.

…

The afternoon had rolled around lazily even for a busy Monday schedule, with still no sign of Draco. He was even absent from his own group; Blaise snuck a worried glance Hermione's way from across the Great Hall at lunch.

Hermione tried to get him out of her mind with books and studying in the library, which worked until an hour before dinner. Walking back to her room with a stack of books in her arms, Hermione took no notice in who was around her. She was more concentrated in her task at hand than where she was going and suddenly she felt someone bump into her, causing her to drop a few of the books on the heavy floor.

She turned around to stop the person who had knocked into her without a word, to find platinum blond hair walking away. She spoke before thinking it through.

"Hey!"

He didn't slow down.

"Hey! Malfoy!"

He halted and turned around, an angry, stressed look upon his face and came charging at her, stopping inches from her face.

"_What do you want_?" He was harsh and impatient as he looked down upon her.

"I…" She hadn't really thought it through; she didn't think he'd make an appearance. She sighed as he crossed his arms impatiently. "What, Granger?"

"Draco, are you okay?"

She said it so softly, so kindly, something in him snapped. His face softened from its tense form. His lip trembled before his composure collapsed, and he started to sob. "M-my life's a m-mess! My father…he's threatened to…to d-disown me. I'm…I'm addicted."

Hermione stared at him, confused at his demeanor and noticed something. His pupils weren't dilated. He wasn't drunk.

He was sober.

…

**AN: Yes, I've continued. Reviews would be a lovely way to kick off the new year. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: First off, I am obviously not an expert with how to help people with alcoholic issues, so for anyone who sees anything wrong or disagrees with the methods I am choosing to write about, please remember that I am not an expert at all. Second, I do not own Harry Potter. Please enjoy. **

…

Hermione stared at him, awestruck that he was crying and that he for once was sober. She glanced around, feeling everyone in the corridor staring at them, confused that a Slytherin was crying to a Gryffindor.

"Let's…let's go some place quieter, okay?" she suggested, hesitantly reaching out towards his elbow and pulling slightly. She was surprised that he let her guide him, but continued on as she led him down the corridors to outside.

The sun began to dip beneath far-away mountains, and anyone else hanging around outside were slowly making their way to dinner. Hermione pulled Draco over to a stone pillar, and let him compose himself again.

"W-what am I going to do?" Draco asked aloud, wiping his tears away, his voice cracking slightly. He turned around slowly to face the pillar, and leaned on it. He suddenly brought his fist down on the side of the pillar in anger, a deep growl emerging from his throat.

"Calm down-please. You'll…you'll get through it."

"How can I?"

"Well, you've got two options, right? Get sober and stay that way, or get disowned."

"So?" he sneered, looked like a serpent about to strike.

"Which one do you want to choose?"

Draco pushed his hands through his pale hair, frustrated and indecisive, growling and huffing.

Hermione looked out silently towards the Black Lake, her own mind in a swirl, trying to process the situation; the twilight reflecting off the water in orangey-yellow hues. _Why are we even having this conversation, it should be the most obvious choice. Why did I have to care so much?_

"Fine! Merlin, don't just stand there, Granger! You got yourself involved, so help me!"

Hermione turned her head towards him. "What?"

"You heard me-_Hermione_, help me."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, for using her name. "You want _my_ help? You, who said you didn't want anyone's help a _day_ ago?"

"Things change! Obviously, I don't want to be bloody disowned!"

Hermione was taken aback. "I-um…so what do you want me to do? Be your sobriety coach?"

Draco pushed his hair back again. "Something like that. I don't know…we still have to keep up appearances, don't we?"

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose so." She still hadn't explained to any of her friends what was going on.

"I mean, I don't know how to explain being seen with a Gryffindor if we get caught."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You make it sound like this is a bad thing."

Draco shot her an astonished look that turned into a glare. "Isn't it? We're not made to be friends, Granger. Hell, we're not even supposed to be in this situation together. Don't you see that?"

"Of course I do!" Hermione fired back. "It's just…now we have to get out of this situation, with better results."

The sky grew dark, and the giant sconces that lined the outside walls slowly brightened to their full intensity.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I'll owl you. Until then, avoid each other."

"Alright, deal," Hermione agreed and began to gather her bearings to leave; Harry and Ron would be wondering where she was. "Oh," she turned back to face him and smirked slightly. "And until then, stay sober."

…

It took nearly a week for Draco to send the letter. After confessing to Blaise about what had happened and then being watched closely by him, Draco was feeling the pressure. He had started to crave drinking even more, dreaming about it, thinking about it constantly and wondering how he'd get through the day without it. Water and pumpkin juice weren't doing it for him, and he started to think that every meal needed alcohol.

He shut himself up in his dorm that Friday, struggled to decline when a few of the Slytherins decided to go drinking, and tried to keep the bad thoughts of alcohol out. He sat down at his desk, his leg shaking, stared at a blank piece of parchment paper.

_I need to see her. _Draco searched frantically for a quill and made a further mess of his desk looking for it, racing against his oncoming headache. He found one, crumbling the parchment slightly and all but tore off the ink well's covering.

He dipped the nib in and scrawled hastily: _Meet me at the Black Lake in one hour. I need to get out-Draco._

He sent it off with his regal owl and waited dreadfully for the hour to come.

…

When she got his letter, she had just returned from a small trip with Ginny to Hogsmeade, and found the huge owl perched on her windowsill.

"Whose owl is that?" Ginny asked, taking off her robe and setting it down on her bed, across from Hermione's. "I don't recognize it."

It was a Barn owl, with beautiful gold and brown coloring with a haunting face and large black irises. She took the letter from the bird's talons, and sent it on its way with a stroke and a leftover treat from a recent visit with Hedwig.

Hermione opened it, and scanned the short sentence. An hour? She'd have to find an excuse to leave Ginny as much as it pained her to do so.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, walking over to her friend. "Is something wrong?"

"No! Everything's fine, Gin." Hermione exclaimed, holding the paper closer to her chest.

Ginny looked at Hermione, skeptically and put her hands on her hips. "Are you sure?" She stepped closer.

"Yes, I'm-hey!"

Ginny had snatched the letter from her hands with quick agility and held it up in her grasp.

"Ginny, stop!"

But Hermione was too late, and Ginny's expression changed from triumph to shock. Ginny held the letter out to Hermione. "What? _Malfoy_?"

"Let me explain, Gin-"

"You'd better!" Ginny demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, and scowling. "_What _is going on between you two?"

Hermione sighed. She had to give it up. "He's got a problem with drinking, and the other night, we got trapped in a greenhouse together…and," she said it quickly, "he kissed me."

"_What_?"

Hermione continued on, "And when I told him to get help, Snape found out that he drinks and then told Draco's parents, who threatened to disown him, and now Draco wants help from me."

Ginny sputtered. "He…he _kissed _you?

"I know. He didn't believe me when I told him either."

Ginny rubbed her forehead and looked at the floor, astonished. "So…so are you going to help him?"

"Yes. I have to. I pushed myself into this situation, and now I've got to help see him through it."

"I see. Who knows?"

"Blaise Zambini and you."

"You haven't told Harry or Ron?"

"No-please don't tell them Gin; I don't want them to worry. I'll tell them when it's all over."

Ginny sighed. "I won't tell them. Just…you know what you're getting yourself into, right?"

"Yeah, I know the possibilities. He could both relapse and go back to the way he was before, or he could completely get sober and move on."

Ginny handed the letter back to Hermione. "Well, helping people is one of the things you do best. Go get 'em tiger."

…

She was surprised to find Draco there at the Black Lake already, pacing back and forth in his black pea-coat. When she reached him, the cold air made her breath come out in puffs from her walk.

He turned around appearing fidgety and irritated. "Can we just go already?" he snapped, forcing a hand through his hair, before she could get formalities out.

"Sure, sure."

They started their walk in silence, and for a good ten minutes said nothing. It was Hermione that started a conversation. "So, how was your week-I hope it went okay."

"No, not really."

Hermione stopped walking and turned to face him. "You didn't drink did you?"

Draco responded grumpily, "No! I didn't."

"Then what's the problem?"

"That I didn't drink! I'm having withdrawal! I kept myself locked up in my dorm when everyone else went out to have fun! I'm jittery all the time and it's only been a bloody week! Merlin, I need a dri-"

"Don't say it!" Hermione snapped. "Don't say it."

"Why not?" Draco demanded, his mind already thinking about his demon.

"Do you want to be disowned? If you think about _that_, you'll want to do it. And I'm not letting that happen."

"Then what should I do?"

"Think of something else!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, anything-other than that, of course."

"Fine, then. I'll think about you."

…

**AN: And cliffhanger. Please review.**


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